Silver Sky
The thunderstorm rolling through the mountains reminds me the cozyness of your embrace. Powerful, beautiful, breathtaking.
Overwhelming
The need to hear your voice. It's persistent, but sometimes, when there's absolute silence, it's overwhelming.
What would happen, if I called you? A screw you? A missed you? A glad you called? A breaking promise to not contact?
I do not know, as I call you not. But the desire to hold you, hear you, that's overwhelming. And I regret all those times when I should have hold you a little bit longer and didn't.
Overwhelming regret.
n = sin i / sin r
Today, the sunset
Sets from the right direction,
Bringing with its light
A refraction of you
The announcement comes
Flight TAP xyzw to Geneva is now boarding.
I remain sitted looking at my ticket. I could maybe print a fake, erase the destination and write over, or simply actually buy one.
Instead I remain sitting, waiting for a plane. Where I will not even be looking through the window. Somehow, I know I'll feel you. 11km distance.
11km, of course, if you'd be there. Whilst, I know, you are probably embarking on your own journeys.
I stood up. And went checking passengers, just in case. You were nowhere to be seen.
Monologues
Monologues in two directions are not necessarily a dialogue.
Two people in silence might be.
Ever more restless and careless.
I wish that I was born a thousand years ago
I wish that I'd sailed the darkened seas
On a great big clipper ship
Going from this land here to that
In a sailor's suit and cap
Away from the big city
Where a man cannot be free
Of all the evils of this town
And of himself and those around
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know
Ça été beaucoup plus que un éclair
Un éclair... puis la nuit! — Fugitive beauté
Dont le regard m'a fait soudainement renaître,
Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l'éternité?
Ailleurs, bien loin d'ici! trop tard! jamais peut-être!
Car j'ignore où tu fuis, tu ne sais où je vais,
Ô toi que j'eusse aimée, ô toi qui le savais!
All these moments.
O suor passeava do teu corpo para o meu, do meu corpo para o teu
Já não sabia se era eu quem
Gemia, estremecia, a carne não adormecia
And I still vividly remember your scent, your taste, your touch, your voice, your look. And the moment we were laying in the couch saying whatever could to break the ice, that insurmountable wall we put between us over and over again. Until a kiss would knock it down briskly.
Solstice, you.
Bend low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long-arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
So lazy and hum-strumming
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Sleepless
I would not be, in your arms. You'd always have a way of smiling at me, that would make me be at peace.
And I never said thank you for those smiles. And I should never say it. I should tell you, and show you gratitude by caring for you.
Instead, I lie here awake.
Not scared, frightened.
You know what? It scared the hell out of me too. What if she hurt me? What if she left me? What if she died? It would have been the end of me. So I cut it short, before she ever could. And you know what? It was the biggest mistake I ever made.
And it was not the biggest mistake: it was the irreversible, daunting, absolute biggest mistake. Because I knew, deep in my heart you'd never hurt me. Whilst I, I, did nothing else than hurt you. Over and over.
I, unfortunately, am Daniel
And yet, and yet… Denying temporal succession, denying the self, denying the astronomical universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations. Our destiny … is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.
I should have been someone else, strong and brave to embrace you everyday. Have the strength to take the necessary leaps into the desirable unknown. Have the trust that life always finds a way, like a river that always finds a sea where we could sail together in harmony.
Sharing is caring
There is nothing worse than a rambling man
There is nothing worse than a foolish mind
Virtual insanity is what we're livin' in
Yeah, yeah, it's alright
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Virtual insanity is what i seem to be living in. Note to self: Virtual sharing is not caring. Virtual care does not exist. I am insane by trying to think it could.
No filter
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
He succumbed to ennui
Should have known better. Or better, I knew.
The right sentence is: I should have done better.
Dreams
On one hand, I hope this one is premonitory.
On another hand, I am an idiot for pushing you away. Or worse, fleeing like a coward.
Enjoy. Be happy in his arms.
When we were making Love
all felt intense, exciting, divine.
but one thing stood out. in those moments, at each first consummation, it was not about the feeling of your warmth, the inviting whispers, the relaxing of your arms, the yearning look in your eyes.
it was the kiss. right after our bodies connected, the kissing became complete. i am unsure why, but your lips would turn into velvet, their subtle movements became more pronounced, the interlocking more natural, as if remind us: all this, all the giving to each other, is not about desire, lust, passion, even Love.
It is about connection. It is about a perfect connection.
Those kisses, each time, were the seal of a Love letter. The emotional topping of the ongoing physical exchange. Without them, it could meaningless. With them, time stopped, each time.
We would eventually release, culminate our passion, sometimes at the exact same time. We would have memories of some of those moments.
But the kisses, those kisses, they are not memories. They are everlasting treasures.